


Absentia

by Pokimoko



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AI Holograms, Alien Culture, Alien Technology, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Cryogenics, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Dubious Science, Forgive Me, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Kimberly Brooks' Spoiler About Season 6, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Possessed Shiro (Voltron), Set after season 5, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Suspended Animation, The Author Regrets Everything, some headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14285130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokimoko/pseuds/Pokimoko
Summary: The process of waking from the frost of the cryo pod was definitely not a comfortable experience, nor one Lance ever hoped to repeat. For one moment, there was nothingness and nonexistence, and then in the next, the world was all around him and there was air in his lungs._______Lance ends up stuck on a planet after Shiro - under the control of Haggar - shoots him out into space in a cryo pod.And so begins one of the worst days of Lance's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> So, this story started off as a one shot, but somehow exploded into a much bigger story. *shrug* Stuff happens I guess.  
> Anyway, most of this is written, so expect pretty quick updates.  
> Also, sorry in advance; this is probably going to hurt.
> 
> All mistakes are my own. :)  
> Enjoy.

Time passed slowly as Lance entered in the dungeon, his footsteps loud in the dismal silence. The whole design of the room had his instincts screaming ‘danger danger turn back now you idiot’. But Lance didn’t listen to those silly instincts. This was the home of the immortal dragon lord, and Lance had come to far to give up now. He was going to slay this thing, even if it killed him. Which it hopefully didn’t. That would kind of ruin the whole thing. But he knew what he meant. This was his final battle, and he was going to go all out.

A roar echoed through the dungeon, shaking the ancient pillar with its tremors. Lance glanced around, trying to find the source. He was alone in this, and so it was up to him to be vigilant. He stilled when he saw movement. Yellow sparks glinted in the darkness as the beast awoke from its centuries old slumber. The ground quaked under it’s immense legs as it rose. The beast slithered forward into the light of the torches, licking its rotting teeth menacingly as it eyed its prey.  
  
Lance stared forward, eyes narrowed as he took in the brute of a dragon before him. It was the largest he had ever seen, with two pairs of scaly wings that looked alot like butterfly wings if they were just a little more demonic, and eyes that shone like lanterns from under the skull mask that all these creatures seem to wear. Lance eyed the accessory critically. Man, dragons must be ugly quiznackers if they felt the need to hide their faces behind freaking skulls.

Well, what it lacked in self confidence, the creature made up for in strength. Lance fought hard and long, and time passed with the clash of metal on scale and the crackles of flames. Minutes pass at an agonisingly slow speed, but eventually the battle was nearing its end. Lance was barely holding on in his fight against it. Thankfully, the dragon wasn’t doing so good itself. It was on the point of death. Just a few more hits and it would down for the count. With an agile motion, the hero’s sword sliced down effortlessly through the air. The dragon recoiled when the hit struck true. The beeping of a low health bar trickled into the fast paced music that echoed through Lance’s room.

“Ah ha! take that, you fiendish reptile,” Lance crowed, raising the controller up in triumph. He shuffled excitedly in his seat.

Okay, just one more hit would do it. He clicked down on the controller, and his third hero hit the beast with a spell. The dragon dodged it effortlessly. Lance’s shoulders sagged.

“C’mon, no, that’s not fair,” he shouted at the screen.  
  
When he saw the words FINAL INFERNO pop up at the bottom of the screen, he bowed his head in defeat. There was no way his heroes would survive that. Sure enough, when he glanced up, GAME OVER blared in red across the screen, and three little graves were established in the place of his heroes. Lance fell back onto the ground and sighed. He’d been _so_ close to completing the game. Hell, he had even given the heroes nicknames in his head. Now he had to mourn the loss of poor Yadda-Yadda-Yadira, Knighty-Knight and Hunky-Dory. They would be missed. And so would Lance’s chances of being able to lord over the others his awesome gaming skills. Damn. Matt still had bragging rights, then. Lance scowled petulantly. Okay, he just had to try again. Lance was nothing if not stubborn.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted his plotting. Huh, weird. It was pretty late - well, early, if the Altean clock on Lance’s wall was anything to go by - so to have someone knock at his door was kind of surprising. Also, given the fact that there was only Shiro, Coran and him on the Castle at the moment didn’t exactly leave him expecting any visitors. Hunk, Pidge, Lotor and Allura had all gone to Zarkon’s ship to scour through Haggar’s records for any more information on Oriande, because their trip there had barely scratched the surface on the secrets that hid in that place. Lance had wanted to go and help with the search, but the others had asked him instead to go on an assignment to a planet not to far from Zarkon’s ship.

It was a diplomatic operation, but given that even Allura - the bona fide diplomat on the team - had left to go with the others made it feel more like a pity mission to keep Lance and Shiro interested whilst the others were away doing magical technology stuff. Coran had just stuck around to drive the Castle and, more importantly, to make sure Lance didn’t destroy the ship whilst the others were away, which everyone agree had a high chance of happening, much to Lance’s grumbles of disagreement. If he did destroy the ship, it would be entirely by accident, okay. Coran had merely patted him on the shoulder in understanding, and affirmed that was exactly why he had to stay. So, thanks to that vote of confidence by the others before they left, it was either Shiro or Coran at the door; two people who rarely sought out Lance unless it was something to do with chores or being an idiot on a mission. Or both. Lance rolled over onto his stomach and stood up.

“Who’s there?” he called with a smirk. He might as well make a game of it.

“Lance?” the familiar voice asked.

“‘Lance’ who?”

“Lance!” the voice repeated more forcefully, knocking at the door with the same force.

The Red Paladin quirked an eyebrow. “‘Lance Lance’? Pfft. That’s not very funny.”  
  
“Lance, p-please, this is serious.”

Lance went to say ‘hello Serious, this is Lance’ but the desperate tone of the voice stopped him. That was definitely not fake. He knew when not to joke, and it seemed now was certainly not the time. Sobering up, Lance waved a hand. The door unlocked at the motion and then opened without preamble, parting to show a sweating and quivering Shiro standing - or more accurately, wobbling - before him. Lance blinked and took a step back in shock. The Black Paladin looked like the definition of hell, with bags as dark as his armour painting the skin under his eyes, with his breaths coming in and out harshly.  
  
“Shiro. Holy Crow! What the hell happened to you?” Lance asked in a rush. He’d seen Shiro messed up before, sure, but this was the worst the man had ever looked.  
  
Shiro shook his head, eyes staring out into some unseen distance. “We...we need to talk. Somewhere private. S-she...she’s listening.”  
  
Lance peered down the hall in both directions, but didn’t see anyone. The halls were - as he expected - completely empty, save for the two of them. Was Shiro hallucinating? And who was ‘she’? Lance bit his lip, unsure if he should play along with Shiro’s delusions. Keith was the one who normally helped Shiro through all of this and, on occasion, Hunk. But neither of them were here at the moment, and Lance was the person Shiro had sought instead of Coran, so he would have to try his best. Lance raised his left hand up and placed on Shiro’s shoulder in a comforting manner.  
  
“Who’s listening, Shiro?” he asked placatingly.

Shiro widened his eyes, and shook his head more fervently than before. “No, n-no, we need to get....get somewhere safe. So she can’t hear.”  
  
Shiro’s prosthetic reached forward and gripped Lance’s hand before he could protest. The Black Paladin pulled Lance away from his room and into the halls. Shiro led Lance wildly through the Castle, eyes snapping down every dark corridor like danger lay waiting there, ready to strike. Despite the lack of choice in the matter, Lance went along willingly. Though concern did drive Lance’s steps forward to keep up with Shiro's quick gait, curiosity also played a part. He _really_ wanted to find out what Shiro was going on about. Ever since Lotor joined the team, Shiro had been weird. Like, really weird; all blunt and harsh, never listening to their ideas, always ready to shout at them. Lance had put it down to stress at first, but then Shiro had confided in him about not feeling right. And the whole mind meld thing had been weird too; Lance still couldn’t figure out why the Black Paladin had been calling for him. After that, even Shiro himself had seemed to sense that, on some level, something was wrong with him. So, Lance didn’t try to distract Shiro from his quest for a safe space. Maybe this would finally get Lance some answers.

After a walk that sent them into the more distant and secluded parts of the Castle, Shiro finally slowed down and stopped at a door. It opened to show a large, elongated room. Lance gazed around, frowning. He recognised this place.

“The detainment room?” he asked. Shiro didn’t reply, pulling himself and Lance forward into the room. The lock clicked as the door shut behind them, closing them in the room.

Lance's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. This is what Shiro classified as a ‘safe place’? This place was freaking creepy, that’s what it was. The empty pods were eerie to say the least, and Lance remembered quite clearly how frantic Shiro had been after he had sent Sendak off in one of those. The detainment room wasn’t a haven of good memories or well-meaning interior design. So, why bring him here to talk? Lance turned his head to look up at Shiro, who was staring at the door as if a hoard of sentries were barging against it and threatening to break in and kill them both. The man looked freaked, his grip around Lance’s wrist so tight it was beginning to hurt. Lance pulled against it.  
  
“Shiro, can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re scaring me, man,” Lance implored.

Shiro glanced at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. Even though his eyes kept returning to Lance, they were unruly, flicking to and fro in rhythm to his distressed breathing. “Lance. She’s....she’s in my head. She...she wants you gone. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to tell you the truth. I’m so sorry, Lance.”  
  
Lance’s heart thudded loud in his chest. “Who is ‘she’? W-why does-...what’s going on?!”  
  
He wrestled against Shiro’s grip, but all he managed to do was exert himself. Shiro would not let him go. An abrupt ripple surged through Shiro’s body, and the action caused the metal fingers to entwined further around Lance's wrist. Lance was too focused on Shiro too care. Shiro was shivering violently, eyes scrunched so tight they made the scar on his nose twist and bend. And then it stopped, and the Black Paladin was completely still. Lance didn’t have a moment to ask about the sudden change before Shiro starting drawing in a harsh and protracted breath. Like someone caught in a cocoon of pitch, Shiro turned his face to Lance. The desperation from before was gone. His countenance was completely blank of any emotion. Lance stopped in his struggle, and gazed at his unrecognisable leader.  
  
“Shiro?”  
  
Shiro’s prosthetic wrenched upwards without warning, and Lance screamed as he felt the bone in his arm snap. Electricity shot up through his flesh, leaving him shuddering as pain rolled through his body without mercy. Red tinted everything, and his lungs would not let him breathe. He didn’t get any relief from the pain, unfortunately, for Shiro’s hand was still wrapped tightly around the broken wrist. Purple fire began burning the skin remorselessly. Lance felt tears spill out of eyes as waves of pain blurred the world around him. But despite it all, he saw - clear as day - yellow eyes watching him from where Shiro’s gray ones should be.  
  
“I see you’re trying to fight me,” Shiro said in a voice that wasn’t his. Lance’s eyes widened when he recognised that gravelly voice. Lance gulped through the pain, managing to bit out her name.

“Haggar.”  
  
Shiro tutted. “Bad Black Paladin. You should have stayed in the comforts of the Astral Plane, and left me to my work. Now look what you’ve made me do.”  
  
Shiro raised Lance further off the ground, as if he was trophy. Lance whimpered as the pain flared all the more with the movement. Despite how much he wanted to, he didn’t reply to taunt. He knew it wasn’t him that Haggar was speaking to.  
  
“This Paladin has been a nuisance of late,” Shiro - no, _Haggar_ \- pondered aloud. “It would be beneficial to me if he was disposed of.”  
  
Lance felt his heart stop. Dispose? Wait, wait, _what_? Was she going to kill him? No, no, she couldn’t. Not when it was Shiro who she was making do it. Lance was not going to let the witch use Shiro to kill him just so she could leave his friend guilt ridden. Besides, if Lance was going to go down, he was going down in a blaze of glory. He flung his free arm forward in a weak attempt to escape. His whole body protested against the movement, already in agony from being dangled by his broken arm. Lance growled as he kept trying and trying, but to no avail. Damn Shiro and his long arms.

Haggar smiled as she turned her attention to Lance. The distorted expression didn’t fit Shiro’s face. “How amusing. And _pathetic_. Don’t worry, Paladin; I’m not going to kill you. I know much better torments than death.”  
  
That statement was not in the _least_ soothing. A shiver of fear ran through Lance, sending his stomach coiling up tight inside his stomach. Pain blinded him as Haggar moved forward, causing Lance to swing to and fro in her grip, which hurt beyond measure. His surroundings faded in and out like vignettes of agony. When the world bled back through and managed to remain, Lance found himself with a wall pressed against his back, and blue glass surrounding him. Shiro stood on the other side with yellow eyes, both hands raised. Purple light spilled out each hand. The feeling of water at Lance’s feet sent his heart racing out of control. What the hell? Why was there water? Oh god, what was Haggar doing to the pod? Lance hastily observed his enclosed surroundings, finding nothing that appeared to be an exit. He had to get out of here. He lurched forward, hitting his uninjured hand against the glass. It didn’t even crack, and he pull his hand back with a hiss. His eyes met with Shiro’s, but all he could see was Haggar.

“Shiro,” he gasped out. “Please, you have to fight her.”

Haggar laughed, a horrible imitation of joy. “He can’t hear you. He has left you to hide away in his mind. You humans; the facade of strength your species wear does little in the face of that single truth; that you are weak, and only you are too ignorant to see it. All so blind, that your friends could not even see your leader faltering under my will. Only you, it seems, ever thought to question it. But, none will ever know of your findings. Your removal will go as unnoticed as the Black Paladin’s weakness.”  
  
“They’ll stop you,” Lance growled back harshly, hitting the glass again with the dwindling vestige of his strength. His stupid broken arm wasn’t really helping matters, and the cooling air around him was causing the blisters on the skin to sting like crazy.

“I doubt that,” Haggar replied, hands still raised forwards and poisoning the blue of the pod with her magic. The water darkened to purple as it reached Lance’s knees, and Haggar gazed at it victoriously. “This pod will not be missed, nor will it be found. Not by your Lion or your friends. Your leader will not remember a thing, and he shall remain my dutiful puppet. He and the others shall weep, but they’ll move on and replace you. Then Voltron will fall apart under my guidance.”  
  
“No!” Lance screamed in rage at her, baring his teeth. He slammed his fist against the glass again. Haggar only pulled Shiro’s mouth up in an amused grin, and continue on with her work.  
  
No, no, this could not be happening. This could not be frigging happening! He knew Shiro had not been himself, but not that he had been freaking possessed! Lance looked frantically to the door at the far end of the room. In his imagination, he saw the others slamming through those doors, action movie style, and saving him, putting an end right here and now to Haggar’s schemes. He wished they would, so, _so_ much. But they weren’t here. Instead, they were off on a mission that they decided he was unnecessary for. They were completely ignorant of Lance’s dilemma, and they would not return to the Castle until it was too late. But there was someone who was on this ship.  
  
“Coran! Coran!” he yelled miserably.  
  
“He can’t hear you,” Haggar said. “This room is too far from the flight deck for even his Altean ears to be able to hear your incessant whining.”

Lance snapped his eyes to the witch in horror. But, Shiro had been the one that lead them here. Had...had that not been Shiro? Or had Haggar been controlling him the whole time without either of them knowing? Lance gazed into Shiro’s yellow eyes. The man wouldn’t willingly do this, would he? Lance didn’t know anymore. How much of Shiro was even really him? How long had he’d been Haggar’s puppet?

Tears sprung up and burned Lance’s eyes as they dripped down into the purple water. It was at his shoulders now. There was really no getting out of this, was there. He was beginning to wish these cryo chambers were like the healing pods. He would take instantaneous freezing over this agonisingly slow process any day.

  
“Please, just stop, _please,_ ” he entreated, with less anger than before. The pain was wearing him down, and he couldn’t keep up his fury anymore.  
  
“As I said, pathetic,” Haggar replied monotonously.

Lance gritted his teeth, and glanced down at the rising water. It was way too close. He raised his head as the water lapped at his chin. Oh god, oh god, _ohgodohgodohgod_. It continued to rise despite his frantic attempts to keep himself above it. The ceiling of the pod finally put a stop to his struggle, leaving him with nowhere to go. The ever encroaching fluid continued upwards. Lance took in a deep gulp of air just before the water passed over his head and filled the cryo chamber completely, leaving him hanging in suspension in the liquid. He floated there, feeling the water turn cold around him. Haggar watched him, never blinking even as a minute passed. And then another. And another. Lance had always been pretty good at holding his breath, but even he could not hold it forever. His vision blurred as his felt his head go light headed.

Lance's eyelids drooped down as consciousness began to fade away. The water was freezing now. He knew what that meant; soon he would be a Lance popsicle. If he was in the mood, he might have laughed at that. Instead, he peered out through his lashes at Shiro’s form. The purple tint of the icy water couldn’t hide the yellow of Shiro’s eyes. He was glad for them, actually. They were the only thing that distinguished the man before him from the real Shiro. Lance didn’t want to blame Shiro for this. This was all Haggar.

Haggar forced Shiro’s hand towards the eject button beside the pod. Even with his foggy mind, Lance still heard her voice ring through his ears.  
“If we ever meet again, I will be glad to see the understanding in your eyes of how cruel time can be. For now, farewell Paladin.”  
  
Lance glared weakly at her, this last piece of strength of his fueled entirely by hatred. When his friends found him - and they would - he was going to freaking slice her to pieces for ever controlling Shiro like this. She would regret ever letting him live, that he swore. Reluctantly, Lance closed his eyes, to weak to keep them open any longer. As he drifted away, he let the images of his friends and family be his last thought before the water around him turned to purple ice, and he was sent into the endless realm of space.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this is a shorter, filler chapter, I'll be posting the next chapter along with it. After these two chapters, I won't be updating for almost a week because I'm going on a short holiday and won't really have Internet. Sorry.  
> Until then, enjoy. :)

The process of waking from the frost of the cryo pod was definitely not a comfortable experience, nor one Lance ever hoped to repeat. For one moment, there was nothingness and nonexistence, and then in the next, the world was all around him and there was air in his lungs.  
  
Lance shot forward with a gasp as all his senses reignited with the sudden return of life and feeling. He didn’t have much time to process the cracked glass of the cryo pod before he was falling through it towards the ground, landing hard on his hands and knees. The shattered glass fell like hail around him, his jacket keeping the shards from digging into his skin. Along with the glass, purple ice and water flooded out from the broken pod along with him and seeped into the ground.

Lance was too busy trying to breath to focus much on that, or the fact he was out of the pod at all. His entire body shivered, despite the relative warmth of his surroundings. His arm, not so long ago the source of a whole lot of pain, was thankfully back to normal, so that an upside. It didn’t change the fact that his arm had been broken in the first place in order to get him trapped in a pod. Yeah, he wouldn’t be forgetting that any time soon.

“Alien?”  
  
Lance blinked down at the ground in surprise. Okay, either he was hallucinating, or he had just heard someone talk. And call him ‘alien’ of all things.  
  
“Alien? Can you hear me?” the trilling voice said.

Lance didn’t feel up to standing, so he merely looked in the direction of the voice. He wasn’t hearing things, thankfully, because there was indeed someone beside him speaking, but it wasn’t any of his friends, as he had been hoping. Instead, it was an alien he had not seen before. They were a bipedal creature, about a head shorter than Lance, with limbs and face like that of a fox, barring the fact they had tawny feathers all over their body instead of fur, and their eyes were a deep ocean of black. The only clothing there wore was a belt, with a sword’s hilt visible in the long sheath that went down to their knees. Their hands had opposable thumbs, with claws and paw pads on each digit. From their back, two magnificent wings fluttered with curiosity, and the fluffy ears atop their head matched the motion. A plumate tail swished back and forth as the creature watched him with squinted eyes. They were really freaking cool looking, and Lance felt his lips tilt up in a smile despite himself.  
  
“Yes, I can hear you,” he answered, his voice coming out in breathless whisper. Wow, he sounded half dead. How long had he been in that pod? His lungs almost felt like that time when he was younger when he had been dared to hold his breath for 5 minutes by Veronica and had just about fainted because of it. He and his siblings hadn’t been allowed to play Truth or Dare for a while after that. This right now, though, was definitely worse.  
  
The fox-bird alien beamed at his response, showing their sharp canine teeth. “I am glad, Alien. I thought your pod would not survive given the height from which you have fallen.”  
  
The alien pointed upwards, and Lance followed their gesture to look towards nothing but the blue sky. It was only then that he realised that surrounding them were short, rounded cliffs that went around in a complete circle, with the pod at the epicentre. Lance pushed himself up into a kneeling position and looked back to said pod. It was relatively fine, save for the bends and dents in the metal and the shattered remains of glass, but it was pretty clear that it had had one hell of a landing, given the way it had punctured the ground.

Lance gaped at it in awe. The alien wasn’t kidding. He had been a full on meteorite and actually survived with barely a bruise. Wow. Well, that was certainly a story to tell his friends. He returned his gaze to his companion.

  
“What planet is this?”  
  
“You are on Jikhora, Alien.”  
  
“Lance,” he supplied amiably.  
  
“My apologies, Lance,” the Jikhorian said slowly, as if tasting the name of their tongue. They smiled, as if pleased by the sound. They spread out their wings and bowed their whole upper body down. “My title is Sunaa.”

Lance bowed his head respectfully, unable to mimic their gesture completely. He was still pretty zonked. Being frozen obviously didn’t do one’s health any favours. So if anyone ever asked him if it was a great way to stay healthy, he’d be that one doctor who didn’t agree.

Sunaa stared down at him, eyes glinting in the light of the distant sun.  
  
“How did you fall to us? In such an advanced machine as this?”  
  
“Uh, well, it was an accident,” Lance said. It wasn’t exactly the truth. Sure, he didn’t intend to get assaulted by Haggar and placed in a pod, and he certainly didn’t mean to crash land on a planet, but it was far from an accident that he had been sent away in the stinking pod in the first place. Stupid Haggar. She must have been planning it ever since Lance had become suspicious about Shiro. Nothing could make this situation worse.....unless. Oh crap.  
  
“Did anyone get hurt? Did I kill anybody?” he asked Sunaa in a rush. What if he landed on someone and killed them? Unless they were the Wicked Witch, that was really, _really_ bad news. And he definitely could not deal with any more horrible surprises right now. One earth shattering revelation was enough, thank you very much.  
  
Sunaa ears shook side to side. Lance frowned, not sure on how he was supposed to take that gesture. Was that a yes? Oh please don’t be a yes.  
  
“No, no one is hurt,” Sunaa clarified, noticing his confusion. “We are in the Barren Lands. Only those who looked to the skies east of our great city saw your machine fall to us. I asked to be the one to explore the meteor site to check for remains of your pod, and that is how we came to meet. Do not fret; you are not in trouble.”  
  
Lance let our a breath of relief. Great, so no one was dead, and heck, he landed near a city. Score! He could walk on over there and figure out some way to contact his friends. They were probably searching for him right this second. Space was a pretty big place - 90% empty, as Pidge kept reminding him - and he knew waiting here without contacting them would be a stupid idea. Pidge was probably looking for some beacon like the last time the team got seperated. He could only hope this planet was advanced enough to allow for intergalactic communications like on the mermaid planet.

“Hey, Sunaa, can we go to the city? I have to contact my, uh, alien friends.”  
  
The Jikhorian’s ears tilted forward. “Of course, Lance. We always are willing to help the aliens that come to our planet for aid. My parents and I will be honoured to help you.”  
  
“Oh, are your parents, like, sciencey people?”  
  
“They are the sovereign,” Sunaa said without any hint of bragging, but merely amusement at Lance’s incorrect guess. Lance blinked at them. Wow, he’d been saved by the child of the Jikhorian royalty. Heck yeah. Sunaa gave a smile when they saw his awe. “But yes, they are...’sciencey’, as you say.”

  
Lance grinned. That was awesome. Science royalty. Hunk and Pidge would be having a field day if they were here. Sunaa eyed him.  
  
“Will you be able to walk?” they asked. “It is quite a distance.”  
  
Lance assessed his body. He could breath pretty well now, and his limbs felt like they could manage a mile or two. He wouldn’t enjoy it, but yeah, he could do it. He pushed himself off the ground, and carefully dusted the shards of glass off his clothes. He was still drenched in the purple water, but hopefully by the time he got the city he would have dried off. He brushed his hair back, hoping he could look at least somewhat presentable for Sunaa’s parents. He needed them to like him so he could use their technology without raising too much of a fuss. He smiled down at his new friend, and offered his hand.  
  
“Lead the way, Sunaa.”


	3. Chapter 3

The hike out of the crater wasn’t all that great. Lance had to stop a few times to catch his breath on the way up, regretting all the way that he had never taken up indoor rock climbing when he was younger. He still couldn’t believe he’d been in the thing that made this. Altean technology was freaking durable, if nothing else. And so was their food. Lance tried to not think about that though. He’d rather not dwell on the fact the food goo he ate everyday was probably older than the Pyramids in Egypt.  
  
Once out of the crater, it was quite a lovely walk to the city. The landscape was quite even, and despite being regarded by Sunaa as the Barren Lands, they weren’t all that horrible. The landscape kind of reminded him of the deserts in America, but somewhat more lush. There was a lot more green than there was in an Earth desert, but it was clear by the dry state of the soil that the place wasn’t exactly a great place for farming.

Sunaa made a great companion, and the two of them passed the time just chatting about technology and all that jazz. Lance was glad for the distraction. It was better than brooding about Haggar by all means.

The ground underfoot became greener the further they walked, easing into a beautiful grassland. The area they were in sloped up into a soft hill, and Lance and Sunaa wandered up it. When they reached the top, Lance couldn’t hold back a gasp at what he saw. Down at the bottom of the hill, a great lake perfectly reflected the blue above it, as well as the city that floated above it like a world caught between two skies. The flying city was made up of dissimilar buildings and artificial lands, all varsely different shapes and designs, cobbled together to make a diverse and technologically advanced looking cityscape. Huge cables loosely strung them all together as if they were unruly balloons, allowing a means of transport between the independent bodies. Several of the cables dove towards the hills that surrounded the lake, but none that seemed to be providing any kind of support. The only thing that seemed to keep the city afloat were the energy propulsors strategically place underneath certain parts of the buildings.  
  
“Awesome,” was all Lance could manage to say. He smiled down at Sunaa. “So awesome.”  
  
Sunaa chirped, pleased by his comment. They tugged at his hand, and began to lead the way down to one of the cables. As they got closer, Lance realised they weren’t cables, but tunnels. Despite their loose appearance, there tunnels didn’t seem to sway in the wind, which was reassuring, because being in a swinging enclosed space did not exactly sound like any kind of fun Lance would partake in.

  
The two companions entered one of the tunnels and made their way up to the city. The interior of the tunnel was quite beautiful, with murals of a history Lance did not know painted across them. Most of the murals depicted how the species have evolved over time in regards to technology. Lance couldn’t help but be impressed by the intelligence of this species. Jikhora could be a great part of the Coalition. Maybe while he was here, he should try and open up some negotiations about that. He could at least try and make something out of the situation.

Soon, the two had reached the interior of one of the floating buildings. Sunaa made a cooing noise as they looked down one of the halls, and another Jikhorian appeared at the end of it not too soon afterwards. Lance almost squeaked in surprise when he took in their large size in comparison to Sunaa. The new Jikhorian was taller than an average Galra, with feathers as dark as the ocean and wings that brushed against the ground with each step. They also had a scabbard on their belt, but the sword remained untouched. The Jikhorian stopped before them, and canted their head in confusion.  
  
“Young Sunaa, who is this alien?”

“Kora, this is Lance. I found him at the meteor site, in a pod that suggested it originated from a technologically advanced race. He says he has lost his friends. He wishes to contact them in order to be retrieved,” Sunaa replied on Lance’s behalf. The Red Paladin added in a well-meaning smile for good measure.

Kora watched him further, before tilting their ears forward and smiling. Lance bowed his head in respect, and to show his gratefulness. He certainly didn’t want to tick anyone off accidentally by being rude. So far, everyone around here was so nice. If he had woken from his pod to a bunch of aggressive lizard-dragons or something, he wouldn’t have been very happy. So, take that, Haggar! Lance had gotten the last laugh by managing to end up on a planet of the nicest possible aliens ever. The others would be hearing from him in no time at all.

“Come with me, then, Lance and Sunaa,” Kora said, before they trailed down the hall. Lance followed after them, with Sunaa just beside him. The three traveled through the halls, with several Jikhorians here and there greeting them and asking about Lance and the pod that he had crashed in.

Eventually, the three reached a large hall, which save for the two grand seats at the end, did not look all the fancy. It was more so technological than anything, but everything in the city had so far been doing pretty solid in that department. Lance took the lack of flourishes to mean the sovereign here weren’t as stuck up as Lubos had been. Another point to add to the ‘Reasons to Like This Planet’ tally.  
  
Sitting on the thrones were two Jikhorrians, with the one of the left with colouring like that of a snowy owl, and the other with feathers a similar shade to Sunaa. The snowy Jikhorian looked like someone who was endlessly patient, whilst their partner appeared to more of the lively sort, their fingers tapping against the rest of their seat. They both eyed Lance’s approach with interest. Lance gave a grin. All this attention felt really great. The Jikhorians must really not have all too many aliens coming over to react so interested and appreciative of his surprise arrival.  
  
Sunaa bowed their head in greeting to their parents, and turned to Lance.  
“Lance, these are my parents, Olgis,” they said, pointing to the snowy Jikhorian, and then to the other, “and Cincue.”  
  
“And you must be from the meteor site, yes?” Olgis asked, their voice as sweet as their child’s.  
  
“You got it in one!” Lance answered happily. When the heads around him tilted, he smiled sheepishly. Right, Earth phrases were a no-no on different planets. “Uh, yes, that’s me. Meteor boy.”  
  
“Is your machine intact?” Cincue queried. When Lance nodded, the tawny sovereign looked to one of their guards. “Send some civilians to collect the technology, would you?”  
  
The guard bowed, and left to complete the request. Cincue returned their gaze to Lance. “What brings you here, Lance?”

Sunaa went ahead and explained Lance’s situation. The Red Paladin made a few hums in agreement as they went through their recount, but the longer they talked, the more his mind drifted off. Now that he was in sight of actually getting in contact with his friends, the problem of what to say started to eat at his mind.

What if Shiro - and therefore Haggar - was there when the others received the signal, or worse, was the only one present when the signal arrived? That would be quite the obstacle. Maybe he could put on a fake voice to trick Haggar into thinking he was some random alien who wanted Voltron to go fight the bad guys and get his sweetroll back or whatever. Though, that would probably confuse the others above all else. Nevermind that plan then.

Hmm. Okay, he would have to be really subtle about telling the others, then. He sure as hell did not want to accidentally provoke Haggar into committing a killing spree because he’d broke her cover. That would be the worst possible outcome, and he really didn’t want to do that.

This is when a secret code would have been pretty great. Then he could just chat to his friends and all Haggar would hear was gobbledygook. Actually, scrap that. If Voltron had a secret code, Shiro would understand it too, and Haggar was in his head so she would understand, and then boom, the whole hypothetical plan was ruined.  
  
Okay, aside from that, all he could do was hope Haggar wasn’t there. Then he could just scream at whoever was listening ‘ _Shiro isn’t Shiro, it’s Haggar, and she ejected me into space, please send a space Uber to pick me up and also exorcise Haggar from Shiro, ‘kay, thanks_ ’. Well, something along the lines of that, anyway.

“Lance?”  
  
The Red Paladin blinked, and looked around. Oh, right, there was other people here. Olgis, Cincue, Sunaa and pretty much all the guards in the room were observing him inquisitively. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.  
  
“Sorry, Your Majesties. Uh, I missed whatever you just said.”  
  
Cincue clicked their tongue blithely, not in the least perturbed. “We asked if you would follow us to the Communication Deck?”  
  
“Oh, right, yes, definitely. Let’s go,” Lance said, realising only after he had spoken how rude that probably sounded. He really needed to work on his filter. Thank god these guys were so chill because he most likely would have had his head chopped off several times over if they were snobby. 

The sovereign didn’t comment on his behaviour, and merely moved to make their way down yet another corridor. Lance accompanied them, along with Kora and Sunaa. Fortunately, this trip was much shorter than the one to the royal hall, and they soon were in a room that was clearly their hub of communication. All sorts of advanced intergalactic scanning devices lined the walls, with Jikhorians standing before them and wearing headsets, listening in on who knows what. A circle holo-communication table was at the centre of room, with lots of technology around it that Lance couldn’t name even if he had a bayard aimed at his head. For a species that didn’t have many aliens come visit them, they sure did have a lot of tech for communicating.

  
Olgis held out a hand to the holo-com table, and it lit up at the movement. They turned to Lance.  
  
“What is the channel?”

Lance scratched his head at the question, trying to recall the frequency. Intergalactic radio wasn’t exactly as succinct as Earth ones were, but luckily for him, Allura had made it her mission to have all the Paladins know it so if they were ever in situations like these where they needed to contact the others, they could. Lance thought back, and it quickly came to mind, thanks to Allura only recently doing another rote session with him. He rambled the numbers off easily, and one of the I.T. Jikhorians typed it into the holo-com.  
  
Olgis’ ears twitched, and they frowned.  
“I don’t recognise that channel. What planet is it for?”  
  
“Oh, it’s not for planet,” Lance corrected. “It’s for Voltron. You guys know Voltron, right?”  
  
Absolute quiet overcame the room, and all eyes turned to face him. Lance blinked at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Well, okay, yeah they _definitely_ knew Voltron. Lance’s shoulders tightened as the silence went on. He’d never liked silences, but this one felt wrong. He couldn’t figure out why. The two sovereign shared a look, before returning their gaze to him, black eyes narrowed.  
  
“You are with Voltron?” Cincue asked, a weird tone in their voice that sounded almost like delight.  
  
“Yes....I’m one of the Paladins....Is that...bad?” Lance queried hesitantly, eyeing each of the surrounding faces with worry. Over his shoulder, he could see that even Sunaa was looking at him strangely, their hand brushing against the sword on their belt.  
  
“No no, this is excellent,” Cincue assured, teeth bared in a grin. “We have heard much about the grand machine that is Voltron, but it has been almost a century since we last heard of its exploits. We did not think it still existed. But you have brought us good tidings. We would love to bring Voltron here.”  
  
Lance gulped.  
“Umm, are you sure? It’s not any trouble?”

“None at all,” Olgis replied, calm eyes twinkling.  
  
Lance bit his lip. The eyes that had seemed gentle only minutes ago now appeared to be barely restraining glee and greed. Now that he thought about it, they did all seem really eager to help him. A little _too_ eager.  
  
Lance yawned dramatically.  
“Hey, you know what, I’m kind of tired. Long day. Y’know how it is with being attacked by magical imposters and being frozen. Very tiring stuff, I can tell you! How about we do this tomorrow?”  
  
Lance smiled disarmingly, hoping they would accept their request. Cincue’s smile shifted in a frown, and they huffed out an irritated breath. They looked behind Lance, and titled their ears forward. Lance yelped in surprise when a clawed hand suddenly gripped his shoulder and wrenched him down. The attack wasn’t anywhere near as frightening as the cold sting of metal he could feel brushing up against his back. Around the room, swords were drawn high to face him, with Kora holding one across his throat.  
  
“No. Do it now,” Sunaa growled from behind him, their blade digging in further into the fabric of his jacket. Lance recoiled his back away from it, but the blade followed.  
  
“H-hey, hey, wait, I thought we were pals, Sunaa,” Lance rambled, hoping his charming personality might help resolve these sudden and violent turn of events.

“If you had not thought that to be the truth, would you have followed me here?” Sunaa asked.  
  
Lance’s eyes widened at their words as they sunk in. The whole time they’d be playing him? Even before they knew about Voltron? Oh, that was so not cool!  
“Why the heck would you even do that? I did nothing to deserve this.”  
  
“That is true,” Olgis commented on their child’s behalf, shrugging their wings casually. “But you have technology that we would very much like. Do not take it personally.”  
  
“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll do that, once you’ve stop _threatening my life_ !” Lance retorted sharply, emphasising his statement by pointing to all the swords leveled towards his head. The swords edged closer, and he dropped his hands back down to his sides. He wanted so bad to attack them, but he knew his close combat skills were pretty crap, thanks to a lack of training in that field. He so regretted that now, that was for sure. He growled in annoyance.  
  
Cincue turned to Kora.  
“Shut him up.”  
  
Kora’s hand slammed against Lance’s mouth before he could react. The grip was painfully tight, claws digging deep into Lance’s cheek. Lance bit back a scream, muffling it so the hand didn’t have to. Blood trailed down his skin like warm tears.  
  
“We can’t have you speaking. We need to make a good impression,” Cincue stated nonchalantly. “And if not....well, I suppose a hostage is a good enough motive to bring Voltron here.”  
  
Lance’s hateful response filtered out through Kora’s hand as merely unintelligible noises. He struggled against Sunaa’s grip on his shoulder, but all that landed him was the blades at his neck and back pressing up further against his skin. Olgis hummed at the sight, before turning to the holo-com table. They pressed a button, and the centre of the table lit up, projecting an image of the Castle’s flight deck. Even from where Lance was standing, he could see that it was completely empty.  
  
“Hailing Voltron. Do you hear us?” Olgis said, in that neverending sweet tone of theirs. “We would like to speak to you.”  
  
No one answered. Lance furrowed his brows. Where was everyone? He quietly searched the image for any of his friends, but found no trace of them. But that was good, right? It meant they wouldn’t be fooled by these guys. Then again, it didn’t mean good news for Lance. So, really, it was a win-lose situation.  
  
“Voltron? Paladins of Voltron?....Hmm. I do not think they are answering us,” Olgis murmured to their partner.  
  
“We will give them a reason. Voltron!” Cincue called. “We have something you might like. A Paladin of yours? The one that goes by the name of Lance.”  
  
There was beat of quiet, short and tense, almost as if everyone was collectively holding their breath. Lance knew he definitely was holding his. And, then, the quiet was gone. The video feed suddenly changed scene before them, from the flight deck to an indistinct part of the Castle. This time, instead of emptiness, the Jikhorians were met with the face of Allura, staring right towards with them with a glower. Lance blinked at her, completely surprised to see how much her appearance had changed since he had last seen her.

Her hair was chopped short, barely passing her chin, with unruly curls at the ends that were the kind of messy Lance’s sister had always strived to imitate. Determination hardened the usually soft appearance of Allura’s face, and faint lines under her eyes conveyed a weariness Lance had never truly seen in the Princess. Above all, though, she looked sad. The kind of sadness that never truly left you, that hung around like a spectre and haunted your every thought. Lance had some experience with that, and he knew what it looked like. And Allura - even after all she had been through - had never looked as defeated as she did right now. What the hell had Haggar done to her?!  
  
Lance fought against the hand out his mouth, even going so far to try lick the feathering palm.When all that did was get feather stuck in his mouth, he shook his head side to side, trying to loosen Kora’s grip. He had to warn Allura about Haggar and about these stupid Jikhorians and their _stupid_ plans. But his attempts only caused the claws to deepen further into his skin. All he could do was release a muffled whimper.

Allura did not seem to hear his offscreen struggles, completely focused on Olgis and Cincue. She narrowed her eyes at them.  
“How do you know that name?”  
  
Lance sent a baffled look in Allura’s direction, despite the fact she couldn’t see him. That was a weird question. Pretty much anyone who knew Voltron would know the names of the Paladins, thanks to the shows they had put on. It wasn’t like Lance was a nobody.  
  
“He told us,” Olgis replied gently.  
  
Allura huffed, anger sparking in her eyes.  
“Given the fact that Lance is dead, I highly doubt that,” she barked. “Do not waste my time with such meaningless blackmails.”  
  
Lance stilled as he watched Allura say those words with such adamant certainty. She thought he was dead? Not missing, not stuck somewhere, but full on dead? What did Haggar tell them to make them think that?

Cincue looked to Lance and grinned, as if they found Allura’s statement comical. 

  
“I think you are misinformed. He is very much alive. And we wish to return him to you. At a price, of course.”

The Princess scowled.  
“I see no point to this game you are playing. There is nothing you have that I want, or is of any worth to me.”  
  
“Is that so?” Cincue queried. “Why don’t you tell your Paladin that to his face.” 

Kora and Sunaa, taking that as the signal to bring Lance forward, dragged him into frame. Lance struggled all the way, not at all pleased with their manhandling. Once Lance was in frame, Kora ripped their hand away. Lance hissed as the claws left his skin, feeling the blood pour out faster now it had nothing damning the wounds. The blades, however, remained where they were.    
  
All of Allura’s previous anger was gone, and in its place was complete and utter shock. It was if she had seen a ghost. She took a step back from the screen, eyes flicking all across Lance’s face, like she was making sure he was real and not a figment of her imagination.  
  
“Lance?” Allura whispered, her lips trembling softly as she spoke. Lance felt his heart break at the sight. He hated to see any of his friends or family cry. Especially if it was his fault.

“Hey,” Lance replied softly, his heart hurting all the more when she gasped at his voice. He flicked his eyes to his captives. “It seems I might need a little bit of help.”  
  
Tear flecked Allura’s lashes as she stared at him, completely disregarding the Jikhorians. He’d never seen her so emotional, and certainly not because of him. What had happened while he was gone? Lance definitely was going to keep his promise of slicing Haggar to pieces, because anyone who made Allura cry frigging deserved it. The Princess let out a rattling breath, before finally acknowledging the others in the room.  
  
“Tell me your coordinates and I’ll be there in 20 dobashes.”  
  
Lance snapped his eyes wide open.  
“What?! No, Allura, they’re trying to steal the L-”  
  
A sudden sting at his throat cut him off. He gasped, tensing under the added pressure of the metal, so close to slicing into his jugular. Which universally was the violent way of saying ‘shut up’.  
  
“Don’t worry, Lance,” Allura assured. She narrowed her eyes at Olgis and Cincue. “It’ll be fine.”  
  
“We thank you for your cooperation,” Olgis said pleasantly. “We will prepare for your arrival.”

Cincue waved a hand, and the video feed disappeared.  
“That went well.”  
  
“Is ‘well’ a Jikhorian synonym for ‘horrible’,” Lance snarked. “Because that’s what I would call what just happened.”  
  
Cincue barely gave him a passing glance, completely unmoved by his words. They instead looked to Sunaa and Kora.

“Make sure he does not escape. We will go to the Hills to meet with his leader. The technology of Voltron shall soon be ours.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I'm back from my holiday, and back with a new chapter. Hope you like it. :)

Lance stared bitterly at the city he had not long since been in. Walking all the way to the Hills - a boring yet suitable name - with swords at his throat and back had not exactly been sunshines and rainbows. For all the beauty of the world around him, he wasn’t really in the mood to appreciate his surroundings anymore. After everything that had just happened, Lance saw the floating city with new eyes.

What was once a source of awe had now become one of the ugliest things in existence. The disparate styles of the buildings made so much sense now. It wasn’t a matter of design or a quirky kind of beautiful, like he first thought. But of course that had been a lie as well. The Jikhorians hadn’t actually been the ones to create them. They hadn't made a damn thing. The technology had all been scavenged, pirated in order to fit the Jikhorian’s purposes. The wires chained down the pieces in a crass show of ownership, keeping the city together and sorted, all the while pretending that it was beautiful. But all Lance could see now were its flaws.  
  
It was the city of stolen technology. There was nothing beautiful about that.

“I take back what I said earlier,” Lance said to Sunaa, who still held a blade to his back, which was really beginning to get uncomfortable. “Your city isn’t awesome. It sucks.”

“I don’t care,” they replied harshly.

Lance glowered. The Sunaa who spoke to him now - the true Sunaa - was the complete antithesis of the one he had known only an hour before. Their kindness had been nothing but a charade. How much had even been real when the two of them had been talking on their way to the city? Was it all just lies told to make him trust them?  
  
Why did this keep happening to him? People just kept lying, playing with him to get what they wanted. Lance was getting really sick of being manipulated. He had always been quick to trust, and had always thought that was a good part of his personality. But after Nyma, Haggar and now this, he was starting to get the impression that it was weakness, and that it usually didn't end well for him. He kept getting screwed over. Why couldn’t people just tell the truth?

He sighed and kicked at the ground, trying to damage the green land in his frustration. These guys didn’t deserve such a pretty planet. They didn’t deserve anything really. They _certainly_ didn’t deserve victory. If the Jikhorians got Voltron, he had no idea what the species would do. Probably skip lying to wayward aliens and go straight to theft. Voltron was a technology that could not land in the the Jikhorian's hands. Catastrophe would be the only result of that. Lance had to just hope Allura and the others would figure something out.

Oh, and that brought up the other ongoing problem: Haggar. Who was still possessing Shiro, AKA one of the people coming to rescue him. _Wonderful_. The witch probably viewed this whole situation as either a great inconvenience - seeing how it seemed his friends thought he was dead - or as an opportunity to dispose of Lance once and for all. Deaths could look pretty accidental when a large scale fight was going on, and Lance could only assume that was the means through which Haggar would try to kill him so not to expose herself. Allura hadn’t seemed aware that Shiro was being possessed, and Lance hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to bring it up, seeing as he had more relative issues happening at the moment. Such as the fact he was hostage and the Lions were ransom for his escape, which, y’know, was just brilliant. Another lovely experience. 10 out of 10, would do it again.

Oh, _great_ ; not only was he in an annoying situation, but he was also on his way to becoming a cynic. Damn it.

He looked over to the sovereign couple. Olgis and Cincue weren’t paying him any attention, too busy staring up at the sky, awaiting the appearance of Voltron. It was almost time, according to Lance’s calculations, which admittedly probably weren’t all that accurate. He was all kinds of jittery, stuck here waiting and not being able to do a thing. He didn’t like not knowing what was going to happen. It was absolutely frustrating.

After several more agonisingly slow minutes, the distant thrum of the Castle echoed through the air, and the surrounding Jikhorians' eyes flicked up at the sound. Lance scanned what he could of the sky, unable to turn his head thanks to Kora’s persistence to keep their blade right at his throat. He managed to find the white spec of the far off ship as it rushed down through the atmosphere towards them. Lance heard a hush of awe spread through the Jikhorians as they observed the technological marvel as it neared. Eventually the ship was right before them, and the wind howled through Lance’s hair as the Castle alighted upon the ground.

A small ship sailed down from the bottom of the ship to land not too far from Lance and his captors were standing. It opened, and Allura stepped out, wearing her pink Paladin armour and a fierce expression. She faltered ever so slightly when she looked to Lance. The Red Paladin shot her a reassuring smile, to help calm the nerves he knew that they were both experiencing. That seemed to do that trick, as the Altean princess soon returned to staring heatedly at the Jikhorians.

“I am here, as I promised, and I have brought both the Castle Ship and the Voltron Lions. You will find them inside,” Allura stated. “Now you must complete your side of the deal.”

“Of course,” Olgis responded. “But, we would appreciate proof of your statement. From what we know of Voltron, there was five Paladins who drove the Lions. Who is to say the Lions are in the ship, and not on the verge of an attack.”

Allura's shoulders sagged as shadows hooded her eyes. She bowed her head despondently.

“There will be no attack, I can assure you. for there are no other Paladins, save for me, and the one you have in your captivity.”

Lance struggled not to show his surprise at the lie Allura had chosen to tell. That was definitely one he hadn't heard before, and if he didn’t know better, he might have believed it. Allura, it seemed, was one hell of an actor. Lance kept his own face neutral when Olgis and Cincue looked to him for hint that Allura was lying. When they found no sign of deceit, they returned their gazes to Allura to continue on with their negotiations. Lance, meanwhile, flicked his eyes to the sky. The others must be on their way, waiting for the right moment; he just had to let Allura stall until that point.

“Then I suppose it is no loss if you hand them over to us,” Olgis commented.

“It is a sacrifice I am willing to make,” Allura bit out. “So, if you please, I would like Lance to be removed from the 'care’ of your guards.”

Olgis bowed their ears. “Of course. We said we would return him for your technology, and that is what we shall do.”

Olgis produced a smile that anyone not currently being threatened by swords might have referred to as charming. Allura nodded, happy with their compliance, and turned to watch Lance be let free. She kept her face still, never once betraying that the others would be here any moment. They were probably waiting for him to be out of harm's way before they launched their assault. Olgis glanced at their partner, who grinned happily, ignorant of the upcoming attack that Lance was sure would happen in the next few minutes.

The primary feathers on Cincue's wing flicked out ever so slightly, in a manner that was clearly purposeful. The blades around Lance withdrew at the gesture, and the claws the dug into his shoulder were released. Lance took in a nice long breath, finally not hindered by any blades. The Jikhorians around him watched quietly as he straightened up, and took a cautious step forward, in the direction of Allura. Cincue clicked their tongue in amusement at the sight.

“A body for Voltron. I believe that is an _excellent_ trade.”

The words had not had time to sink before a sudden force slammed into Lance’s lower back. The blow drove all the air in his lungs out in a horrible rush, leaving him with nothing but the dull pain that was now radiating in his torso. Lance knew enough about being being punched to know that whatever had just hit him was not a fist, or anything of the sort. This was something far, _far_ worse.

Lance groaned as he felt a shard of frost squirm inside his body, each thud of his heart making the fragment colder and colder. Metal glinted in Lance’s periphery, and his eyes lolled down to his stomach. The fabric of his shirt had been ripped, allowing him to see quite clearly the wound that had been inflicted upon him. His vision swam at the sight.

There was a sword protruding from his skin, its tip like a silver peak dripping red with blood. _His_ blood.

Huh. Okay. He hadn’t seen that coming. 

Lance could only watch numbly as the blade sunk back into his body and disappeared as it was pulled out. Blood began gushing from the wound, turning Lance’s clothes the colour of his Lion. 

There were no clawed hands holding him back, so without preamble, Lance stumbled ungracefully away from the Jikhorians towards Allura, knowing full well that was probably the last action he would be doing today.

He distantly could hear Allura screaming his name, all desperation and anger. Lance wasn’t even sure it was her. Everything was turning hazy around him. He barely realised he had collapsed to the ground until he blinked and found only the blue of the sky above him. His blood trailed down his skin towards the ground, falling drop by drop onto the grass like sand in a hourglass.

All around him, voices yelled and raged and accused and screamed, but he couldn’t understand any of it. The fog of numbness was nearing its end, he could tell, because the pain in his stomach was beginning to flare. His body was slowly beginning to realise it had been stabbed. The agony grew and grew until it finally engulfed him.

It was far worse than any pain he had ever felt in his life, worse even that what Haggar had inflicted on him. Lance could feel himself gasping and his body trembling, but it was if someone else was doing it in his stead, whilst he took the brunt of the suffering. Fire burned and burned through all his veins, and his brain darkened with the agony of it.

A great shadow passed over Lance’s face, and he savoured the fleeting moment of cold. In the swirl of reality, he saw the Black Lion fly over him, leading its shadow across the green land. It roared in fury, and blue light rained down upon the Jikhorians.

Lance let out a weak chuckle. The others were here, finally enacting an attack. Well, better late than never. He closed his eyes, and let the world pass by him, knowing that everything would be okay now.

Screams echoed out through the darkness like some morbid symphony, and for the first time in his life, Lance didn’t feel any obligation to care. The Jikhorians would only squander mercy if they were given it. Whatever came their way was their fault and their fault alone.

Time moved backwards and forwards and every which way, until all the screams were gone, and there was nothing but the quiet. Death beckoned as the silence deepened. It sounded peaceful.

Lance was close to following, but the trace of a hand nudging his shoulders refrained him. A voice called his name, and fingers wrapped fabric around his stomach, wounding it around and around to keep him from falling apart. The voice would not stop talking. On and on it went, distracting Lance from his promised rest. He peered out through his lashes to find Allura above him, desperately trying to wake him.

“‘Llura,” he murmured weakly.

“Lance? Lance! You have to stay awake,” her voice said, out of sync with her moving lips. She flickered before him, in and out. Everything was so muffled and washed out and sickening. Lance was floating atop an ocean that shook and tumbled and made his stomach turn, and with each wave he struggled to keep himself from sinking. He could just drown right here and now, and then the pain would be gone. But Allura's tears would hurt more than the ocean of pain ever could. Lance would not make her cry. 

The world shifted as Lance was raised off the ground. Lance’s head lolled down, and he watched the pendulum of green and blue as his head swung side to side. A glimpse of black drew his attention, and he kept his eyes on it just long enough for shapes to form. Red lightning wings, silver paws, golden eyes. The Black Lion, Lance realised. It must have landed. It was bowed towards him and Allura, mouth wide open and jaw ramp lowered. There was no one striding down to meet them, but Lance knew what awaited. Shiro would be in there.

And so would Haggar.

Lance squirmed pathetically in Allura’s arms. He couldn't go in there. Allura would be taking him to his death.

“Haggar,” Lance murmured weakly. “Sh-shiro.”

“I know,” Allura replied sadly.

Lance moaned as another torrent of pain wracked his body, leaving his unable to respond. Everything hurt. So so much. Allura was all that was keeping Lance's tenebrous connection to consciousness from breaking, her voice a gentle stream of assurances in Lance's ear. Her boots tapped along the Black Lion’s ramp in rhythm to her song of promises that everything would be okay, you’re here now, I won’t let you go ever again. Stay. Stay, please.

The world turned a shade of purple. Allura sat down on the pilot chair, leaving Lance cradled upon her lap. She was comfortable, he mused. Her hands undulated through the air above him, and he watched them, finding reprieve from the pain in the mazy motions. The Black Lion rose. Allura’s hands danced, and the Black Lion followed their lead.

Lance felt the Lions flight in strange, dispersed intervals, most of which he spent battling pain and the call of unconsciousness. A small, very insignificant part of him had the energy to ask why Shiro wasn’t here piloting the Black Lion. That same part didn’t have enough energy to find an answer.

Even through the pain, Lance could tell that something was off. Instead of the chorus of voices Lance was used to, there was only Allura. Her voice was so constant that Lance could almost forget that no other voice telling him to hold on. But he didn't forget. It was a good as silent in the cockpit without the sounds of his friends. Not even Red spoke to him, or Blue. He couldn't even sense them. It was eerie and horrible and Lance hated it. He just wanted to hear the others tell him he was safe now. But they didn’t, and their absence dug into Lance's skin.

The Lion stopped, but Lance was still moving. Up, down, up, down. The scenery blurred around him, like a child was painting everything around him with watercolours. Allura still spoke, a constant repeat of the same words. Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die, I can’t lose you again, not again, not after all this time, not now, please, please, _please._

Lance liked that she cared. It was nice. 

She carried him away from the Black Lion and towards a round room, and then towards a round tube. He knew this place, but his hazy mind didn't supply the name. All he knew was that it was blue, blue, blue. That was good. Blue was safe. 

The screen of the tube dissipated in a shower of sparkles that defied gravity, leaving it hollow and gray. Mist spilled out to cover the ground like earthbound clouds. Allura led Lance through the lowly mist towards the tube. She propped him up inside of it, hands gentle as they lay him upright against the back of the tube. She moved away, and the sound of buttons being clicked filled the room. Cold air began to brush against Lance's skin, and the pain that was fizzling away in his flesh eased ever so slightly.

Lance breathed out, smiling softly. There was no purple water lapping at his chin, or yellow eyes watching him. He would be okay this time. The cold air carried Allura's soft assurances that everything was going to be okay. That he could sleep now. That she would be there when he woke up.  

Lance closed his eyes, and let himself fade away into a wash of cool, lovely nothingness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's LOTS of talking and crying this chapter. It's basically 70% discussion and 30% tears. But, fortunately, there is also loads of explanations. None of which is based on canon events, by the way. This is an alternate timeline from S5, an excuse I will continue to use when all this stuff is inevitably jossed by future seasons. Nevertheless, this chapter does give some background to what's been happening while Lance was absent.  
> And hey, if you thought I was being mean before, you ain't seen nothing yet.  
> Enjoy.

For the second time that day, Lance found himself waking from a pod. Unlike with the cryo, though, with the shift from unconsciousness to awareness actually quite pleasant. There was no suddenness to the affair, with the passing over into the waking world slow and calm. The air whispered around him as the screen dissipated, and the cold mist wafted out. His legs softly met the floor of the pod, and when they wobbled underneath him, he let himself fall forward, trusting there would be someone there to catch him. For once, that trust was not misplaced. A pair of hands caught him and eased him down to the ground. Fingers, warm and gentle, brushed against his cheek.

“Lance?” a soft voice asked. “Lance, can you hear me?”

Lance’s eyelids fluttered, still heavy with sleep. With each blink, he caught brief vignettes of Allura above him, her mouth pulled down in concern. The blinks became few and far between until eventually his eyes managed to remain open. He was in the Medical Wing, he realised upon inspection of his surroundings, and save for him and Allura, it was empty. Allura didn’t seem all that perturbed by the hush of the room. He gave her a subdued smile.  
“Hey.”  
  
“Hello,” she replied gently. She moved her hand away from his cheek. Before he had a chance to miss the contact, she placed it on his shoulder blade. She tugged at him lightly. “Can you get up?”  
  
Lance mentally assessed his body, trying to find any source of pain. His stomach was still a little sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle, and certainly nothing that would impair his ability to move. He nodded, and with a little help from Allura, managed to sit up. After he was sure he wouldn’t collapse from dizziness, he let her pull him up into a standing position. The fabric of her pink dress brushed against his skin as she took his hand into her own and stole him away from the pod.  
  
Allura led him over to the steps, and together they sat down upon them. Lance looked down at himself, finding that he was still wearing the torn and bloodsoaked remains of his clothing. The shirt was too far gone, the steel blue fabric turned to rust that would live on in eviternity regardless of any attempt he could make to salvage it. The jacket, however, given its darker colour and firmer fabric, could be saved with a bit of TLC. It was was of the only things he had had with him when he left Earth, and he would rather not lose it. 

He pulled the fabric of his shirt away, and peered at where the blade had pierced him. Save for the sting of the phantom blade that was lodged in his memory, the only evidence he had been stabbed at all was the faint hypertrophic scar that marked his skin just to the right of his belly button. Lance didn’t even need to check to know a larger scar was to be found on his back. Well, it was better than bleeding to death, so he would take it.

Allura shuffled awkwardly beside him as she eyed the scar with evident concern.   
  
“I’m fine,” he assured her, before shrugging. “I mean, yeah, I haven’t exactly had the best day, but I’ll be okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”  
  
“No, no, it’s not that,” Allura said. “It’s just....can you tell me how you ended up on that planet?”

Lance grimaced. Right, he still hadn’t got round to explaining that. Until Haggar was gone, Voltron was compromised. The others had to be made aware that they had been infiltrated, and hopefully from there the team could figure out how to fix it. He drew in a deep breath.  
  
“It was Haggar. She....well, she’s controlling Shiro.”  
  
Lance paused, and glanced at Allura, waiting for some sign of shock or outrage at his words. All he got was a weary nod. Lance squinted at her in confusion.  
“Why aren’t you being m-” he cut himself off as a memory trickled into his head. “Oh.....You already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Allura breathed out. “I’ve known that for quite some time.”  
  
“Is that why Shiro wasn’t piloting the Black Lion?”  
  
Allura place her head in her hands.  
“You remember that,” was all she said. It wasn't a question, but Lance answered all the same.  
  
“Yeah. I was kind of out of it, but I definitely remember the Black Lion showing up to attack all those Jikhorians. But Shiro wasn’t piloting it; _you_ were. Did....did something happen to Shiro while I was gone?”  
  
“A great many things happened while you were absent.”

  
Lance gulped. That didn’t sound good, but then again, he hadn’t been expecting anything good in the first place. He placed a gentle hand on Allura’s shoulder.  
“Well, you might as well explain it now before the others get here.”  
  
The Princess lifted her head, and gave him the saddest smile he had ever seen. Her purple iris’ glittered.  
“...Yes, I suppose that would help things. Are you sure you want to hear this?”  
  
“Yeah, I do,” Lance answered resolutely.  
  
Allura nodded, and played the fabric of her dress through her fingers, keeping her focus intently on the ruffles as she spoke.  
  
“When I heard news of your disappearance, I and the others rushed to return to the Castle, in hopes we would be able to find you quickly. Shiro told us you had run away in an escape pod, to return to your family. In the rush of things, we never suspected that to be Haggar misleading us. We tracked down the pod that Haggar had sent us hunting after, only to find it burning in ruins on a planet not too far from where the Castle was the quintant you went missing. We scoured and scoured that planet, in hopes of finding any trace of you. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“The lack of evidence caused us to grow suspicious, for there should have at least been a sign that you had perished on the planet. It was Lotor who finally realised Haggar was manipulating us through Shiro, distracting the team so she would have time to amass an army to fight us. When we confronted Shiro about it in hopes of helping his fight her influence, she took complete control and escaped, but not before telling us something I thought - up until today -to be the truth: that she had killed you at Shiro’s hand, and sent your body into space, for none to find.”  
  
“Well,” Lance interrupted softly, swallowing down his horror at the aftermath of his disappearance, “she did tell you a morbid version of the truth, I guess. She made Shiro put me in a cryo-pod, and then I got shot off into space.”  
  
Allura inclined her head forward, taking in the information with ease.  
“After seeing you alive today, I realised that had to be the case. We did search the detainment room many times after you disappeared, but we never found any evidence that it had been the method of your disposal. Even then, those pods are not trackable by the Castle. I can only assume Haggar was thorough in removing any trace of her transgressions.”  
  
“So, up until the point the Jikhorians contacted you, you guys thought I was dead?”  
  
“We had nothing to suggest otherwise. You were gone, without a trace, and without any sign that you lived on. Not even Red or Blue could sense you. To us, it seemed the oblivion of space and death had claimed you.”  
  
Lance hugged his knees to his chest. After Shiro had been gone for months, he had begun to lose hope they would ever find them. If Shiro had been gone longer, Lance could only suspect he would had started to believe his leader was dead. Lance's far less literal vanishing act definitely might have caused the same unsettling feelings in the others. The team hadn’t been wrong to give up on him when there nothing to make them believe he lived. “Missing in action is as good as dead, sometimes.”  
  
Allura let out a shaky breath.  
“Haggar fooled us. She fooled _me_ . I will _always_ regret giving up on finding you. I should never have stopped.”  
  
“I’m here now. That’s all that matters.”  
  
Tears bloomed in Allura’s eyes, and her mouth wavered as she tried to smile at his comment. Lance felt his heart crumple in his chest. Despite his better judgement, a small part of himself felt responsible for each tear that fell. So Lance did the only thing he knew that would help sooth her misery.  
  
He entwined his arms tightly around her and pulled her into a hug, sending all his affection and care through the embrace. He felt Allura’s breath on his ear when she gasped in surprise. He didn’t let go, though, and she soon softened into the hug. Gladly, she didn't seem at all bothered by the dried blood that covered him, too caught up in the hug to really focus on that morbid detail. Lance felt the patter of her tears on his jacket, but he didn’t care. They stayed there for some time, entwined in that warm, loving hug.  
  
Allura pulled away from Lance, and he let her go. She rubbed at her cheeks, before she glanced up at Lance, the blues of her eyes brightened by the red tinge left behind by her tears.  
  
“That is not all that happened.”

The Red Paladin didn’t say anything, quiet as he awaited her elaboration. Reliving the past was a hard, and Lance knew it was best to be patient. Eventually, Allura found herself able to continue.  
  
“After she told us of your supposed death, Haggar stole Shiro away from us, away to be puppeted for her own goals. With you and Shiro gone, we could not form Voltron. We were in tatters. Keith returned to us when he heard of our dire situation, and he once again became the Black Paladin so we could have some means of leadership...But without you, we were not the same. Not merely because of our incapacity to form Voltron, but also because your absence caused tension to fester between the Paladins. I suppose the Lions sensed we needed a Red Paladin to help give us at least some sense of stability, and so, for a brief period, Lotor became the Red Lion’s pilot.”  
  
Lance cringed at that, but didn’t say anything. The fact that Red had actually taken a chance on the guy was already disturbing to think about, let alone discuss in fully. Better to keep his judgements of the Galran Prince to himself.   
  
“With Voltron,” Allura proceeded, “we waged war against the witch, cutting her off from her allies and taking away her strength, until all she had left was herself and Shiro. Haggar  was desperate by that time. She called for us to meet and negotiate a truce. If we spared her and let her go freely, she promised to return Shiro to us, free of her magic. Of course, we knew there was a chance it was a trap, but we needed to save Shiro. So we complied with her wishes, and met her on the planet where Zarkon met his end. At first, all did seem well. Shiro seemed to be free from her control, and he was allowed to walk towards us. But the moment he stood in our midst, he attacked.  
  
“Luckily, we had foreseen such an event happening, and we managed to detain Shiro before he could harm any of us. Haggar, left with no one but herself, finally met us on the battlefield. She was all rage and desperation; even she knew there was no hope for her. She just wanted to ruin as much as she could before she was defeated. It was Lotor who finally brought an end to Haggar on that fateful day. He killed her just as he killed his father.  
  
"....But, she did not die without taking one of our own, leaving yet another wound upon us. Her final words were that of a spell; one that binds all that share the same blood to be joined in death. We had not been certain of Lotor’s ties to Haggar before that moment, but when he began to....bleed as she did, we knew too late that her death would not be a lonely endeavour. As Haggar died, so did Lotor.  
  
Allura’s head fell as she sobbed. Her voice had struggled to remain steady as she had detailed the demise of the Prince, but that final declaration had sent her house of cards to the floor. Lance rubbed her back compassionately. He never cared for Lotor all that much, but he didn’t dislike the guy enough to be apathetic to the news of his death. Someone important to a person he cared about had died. The secondhand sorrow stung something fierce in his heart as he watched Allura grieve.

His sadness for the fallen Prince, however, paled in his boundless glee that Haggar was dead; that the cruel creature - who had caused so much pain for everyone - had met her end. Brutally, he hoped, and without mercy. Even if it was not at his hand, he was glad she would no longer be around to hurt anyone else; could no longer destroy all that she wanted as she pleased, nor blink out of existence another star, planet or life so she could have the cosmos reflect her soul. There was nothing left but reminders of her. He could sleep better knowing that she gone.  
  
Allura sniffled at his side, and Lance withdrew from his dark thoughts to glance at her. The Princess brushed back her hair to uncover her face, a look of determination now replacing the melancholy. She was ready to continue.  
  
“After Haggar perished, Shiro was released from her hold. Even with Lotor gone, we were glad that Shiro had been returned to us.....But he was never the same after his time with Haggar controlling her. We understood of course. To have someone like Haggar forcing you to bend to her will, to kill in her name.....someone doesn’t truly come back from that. But...I think it is the belief that it was his hands that had killed you that hurt him most. He felt guilt that should never have fallen upon his shoulders. I would never wish that kind of burden on anyone....”  
  
“Lotor’s death,” she stated after a beat, changing the topic so suddenly Lance blinked with surprise, “thankfully, did not create the chaos that Zarkon’s had. During his time as the Red Paladin, Lotor helped to eliminate those who would cause the Galra Empire to return to hatred and greed. Thus, when the time came for a heir to be chosen, it came to rest on the shoulders of Kolivan.”  
  
“Kolivan?” Lance echoed in astonishment.  
  
Allura nodded. “He and the Blade of Marmora incorporated themselves into the Empire, and helped to keep it on the course of peace that Lotor had begun during his reign. With the Empire no longer a threat, Voltron found itself unnecessary. People do not need a weapon when there is no war to be fought. And the Paladins...they deserved rest. Shiro especially. And so, I did what I thought was best: I took them home.”  
  
A jolt of surprise ran through Lance, and he stared at his companion, his mouth agape. “W-wait?! You guys went to Earth?”  
  
Allura hummed in affirmation.  
“Yes. Their families were glad to see them once more, and the familiar places of your planet helped soothe Shiro’s soul, even if only a bit.”

  
A pang of unwanted jealousy shot through Lance at the news. To hear the others had returned to Earth whilst he had been gone made his homesickness burn savagely inside of him. Nevertheless, he was glad that at least the others had had the chance to reunite with their families, and to have them all once more see people and rain and grass and mountains and oceans and everything that Earth so special.  
  
“And,” Allura added, drawing Lance’s attention back to her, “Hunk brought us to meet your family.”  
  
Lance perked up.  
“You saw my family? Were they alright?”  
  
“Yes. They were so lovely and welcoming, and all of them were well." Her wistful smile faded. "The news of your supposed death, however, caused them great pain. They mourned your loss deeply. They held a funeral for you, in order to say the goodbyes they never got to tell you themselves. I wish..I wish they had known then the truth. I wish I had found you and brought you back to your family, so they wouldn't have been left to deal with your passing.....I had always hoped you and your friends would return to home unharmed, but I suppose that was a far-fetched wishes of a young girl.”  
  
“But it’ll be okay now. I can go tell them I’m alive,” Lance assured her.  
  
Allura closed her eyes, but even that could not hide the tears flecking her lashes.  
“Lance...I’m sorry. You can’t do that.”  
  
The Red Paladin reeled back away from her, feeling shock turn to hot anger inside of him. That didn’t make any sense. Why tell him how miserable his family was, but then deny him even the chance to tell them he hadn’t died? No, no, he wasn’t going to be denied this one thing, the only thing he had been truly wanting since he ended up in space. He glowered.  
“I think my family has the right to see me after thinking I was dead. I haven’t seen them for almost a year, Allura. If the Galra are no longer a threat to Earth, then what’s wrong with going back? I’m pretty certain the others would love to go back there again. I sure as hell would like the chance to go back there _at least_ once.”  
  
“Lance, please, can we speak of something else?” Allura pleaded softly.  
  
“No!” Lance yelled, springing up from the ground. Frustration coiled tight like barbed wire around his heart, causing him to bleed all that he had tried to keep deep inside himself.  
  
“I miss my family so goddamn much, Allura. I miss the taste of my Mamá’s home cooked ropa vieja, and the smell of the perfume she wore every day without fail. I miss how Veronica would listen to me about my problems, no matter the time of day, and I miss how Luis and Marco would always protect me when I got into trouble with the bigger kids at school. I miss my abuela tell me a story to help distract me when the world when I was having a bad day. I miss the complete and unconditional trust I shared with everyone in my family, and how I knew for certain none of them would ever let me down. After everything that has happened to me lately, I _need_ to see them!”  
  
“You can’t!” Allura screamed back at him, standing up to face him. There was no anger in her voice. Just pure misery.  
  
Lance’s anger softened at the sight of Allura. She was already upset as it was; shouting at her would only make it worse. His frustration at her adamant refusal, however, still lingered. He huffed out a breath.  
“I get it. It’s been a tough couple of months since I disappeared and you’ve been through a lot. I just don’t get why I can’t see my family.”  
  
Allura’s reply was but a mere whisper.  
  
“It wasn’t months.”  
  
Lance’s eyes went round, and he stumbled back a step.  
“What?” he breathed out.  
  
Whatever emotion that was in Allura’s eyes was lost under the curtain of her hair as she looked away to some tenebrous distance.  
“Wars aren’t fought and won in months, Lance. Not against the Galra. That takes time.”  
  
The blue in Allura’s eyes stormed with melancholy as she spoke, her voice so quiet that Lance struggled to hear it over his beating heart. His missing time began to stretch and distort in his mind. For him, the time he had been gone had passed in but a blink, but for the others, it had been the long way round. It had been blood and grief and misery. A war had toppled an Empire that none had thought could be defeated. How long had his nothingness been for all that to rage and burn and die? How long could he have possibly have been gone?  
  
A sick and hollow feeling of fear began to permeate in his stomach, and even though his instincts screamed at him to run and ignore the truth for as long as he could, he found his mouth asking a question he really didn’t want to hear the answer for.  
  
“Allura, how long was I gone?”  
  
Allura sighed as if she had been awaiting that one horrible question. It was shaky and soft, that sigh, oh so soft, like the very air was fragile; as if once it broke, the two of them would finally see the world for what it was; unfair and cruel. Her answer was so short in comparison to story she had just told him, but it was a thousand times worse than anything he had yet heard. It was an answer he wished was lie, another manipulation to add to the pile that was continously growing. But there was no mistaking the truth of Allura’s words, and Lance could only listen on in horror as her broken-hearted voice tore apart his veil of blind ignorance, along with everything he had ever known.  
  
“Lance....you were gone for almost 150 years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is; the answer to how long Lance was away. I did try to warn you.....subtextually....with names.  
> Jikhoria - deprived from Japanese 'jikan' meaning time and Spanish 'hora' which also means time. So, time time, basically.  
> Sunaa - deprived from Japanese 'suna' meaning sand, which often refers to time, as seen in 'sunadokei' or hourglass.  
> Olgis - literally 'siglo' backwards, which is Spanish for century.  
> Cincue - deprived from Spanish 'cincuenta' meaning fifty.
> 
> So basically I was an arsehole who tried to warn you it was a long time in the most obscure ways possible,
> 
> *hides behind wall of protection*  
> I'm sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone.  
> Sorry about the late update. Here's some excuses for ya! School came back, and the first weeks of the term were crazy busy (FYI, speeches should be illegal on the basis of that they suck), and then after I finished all the work, I decided that oh yes, it definitely is a great idea to binge-watch all 5 seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine instead of doing my three major projects that are all due in three months and of course, instead of writing for this and 'Blue Lips, Pink Oceans'. 
> 
> This was also one of the hardest chapters to edit. It took me about a day to write, but it took me several sessions over a week to actually make it good. I would say this chapter is definitely edging towards being melodramatic, but given the circumstances, I felt like it kind of fitting to have it like that. 
> 
> Also, there are a few headcanons put in here. The only one I'll clarify here in the notes is Cárdenas, which is the town I chose to be where Lance grew up. It's a maritime city in Cuba that's not too far from Varadero Beach. I've never been there (or anywhere outside Australia, for that matter, because my family doesn't travel anywhere ever) so it's moreso a namedrop than an actual indepth glimpse of the place. Nevertheless, just wanted to give background to the brief mention of the town.
> 
> Anyway, just a heads up, the last two chapters have not been written, so the updates for those might take some time as well. I apologise in advance, but I will try to at least have the next chapter up before VLD Season 6 comes out.  
> For now, hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> (Also, happy Pride Month everyone. :) )

Loneliness was a strange concept for a child to comprehend or experience, but Lance had known its presence all too well before he had even reached the age of six.

Up until the point, his family had been his whole world, everyone he had ever known and ever loved. Veronica, Luis and Marco had been the best big siblings ever, always going along with his whims and treating him like he was the coolest person in the world, which in his young mind, he was. They would crown him king, take him to the moon, and let him lead a ragtag group of heroes to fight against some fierce dragon. He was happy. Despite that, Mamá worried for him, always coaxing him to join others his own age to play with. Lance would always ask why. What was the point of finding someone else? She had never answered that question, only smiling sadly and leaving him be.  
  
It was not until he was thrust into the setting of school that he truly understood what his mother was trying to do. Even though his siblings went to the same school, they were older than him, and they had their own friends. Lance was just their clingy little sibling who was embarrassing and annoying and soon his siblings were repeating his mother’s words, asking him to find someone his own age to play with. So he tried. He tried so hard, but his first few attempts of friendship had ended in humiliation. He always said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, trusted the wrong people. Everything he did was _wrong_. And he was left with no one because of it.

That was, until Yadira arrived. He had spoken to her only by chance the day she joined his class about a year into his schooling. By then, he hadn’t expected to find friendship with anyone. He had accepted being the odd one out, the one that teachers only saw as the troublemaker. They weren't wrong. He would do and say whatever to anyone, no matter how rude or mean spirited it was, as long as someone gave him a flicker of attention for even a moment. He couldn’t remember for the life of him what it was he said to Yadira - he could admit it was probably something brash - that made her decide to sit next to him. But that small decision to give him a chance ignited his first, and one of his truest, friendships.

With Yadira there, school no longer felt like lonely halls filled to the brim with uncaring faces. And their companionship didn’t end at school. The streets of Cárdenas were also their playground, every alley another place to turn into the setting of one of their many adventures. Their parents always knew that if they wanted to find one of them, they’d end up finding them both, probably off making sand mermaids on Varadero Beach or pranking the tourists that flocked there. Lance’s Mamá had been so thrilled to hear he had made a friend, and had openly welcomed Yadira into the fold after he had brought her over to his house for the first time.

During all the years of their friendship, Lance always wondered what Yadira found so intriguing about him. He was the kid without a filter, always joking and too loud, speaking non-stop but never saying anything of importance. He supposed that she didn’t care about those things. She stuck around, through thick and thin, black and blue, ups and downs. For years and years, he and Yadira were friends, utterly inseparable from each other.

But then Lance’s family told him they were moving to America. The catalyst that changed everything. Yadira and him had cried at the news together, but had sworn in their tears to never stop being friends. Indeed, they did keep that promise resolutely. Even with the distance, they never drifted apart, always speaking to each other every day, keeping in touch with what was happening for the other. When Lance learned cool American slang, Yadira would be the first of many to have to suffer him using it constantly. When Lance decided to become a pilot, Yadira supported him all the way. When Lance made friends with Hunk at the Garrison, Yadira heard it first. He and Yadira talked and talked and talked.  
  
Till the day they didn’t.  
  
Yadira stopped answering him, suddenly and without reason. He couldn’t figure out why. His questions about her silence were met with nothing.  
  
He spent days wandering around with his mind telling him she had abandoned him, that she had decided he wasn’t worth the time. He hadn’t tried hard enough, or he had tried too much, and she had finally realised how idiotic it was that she ever choose to be his friend. So many horrible thoughts that he would later regret ever believing. She would never had done that. If she hadn’t died, she would have been his friend for ever more.

For all the talking they did, Yadira never once told him she was sick. She had been for quite some time.  He’d never been smart enough to notice the tremor in her voice whenever he called, always too busy with his own life to realise she never really told him about her’s. It was her parents who finally told Lance why she wasn’t answering, and that had been the worst phone call in his life. For all the sadness he felt at her supposed abandonment, her death hurt far, _far_ worse. It was worse than loneliness, and it worse than leaving her and his home in the forgotten gem of the Caribbean. He hadn’t even known she was dying. She was there, and then she was gone.  
  
Hunk had helped him through that tough period, always patient and understanding, and always there to keep Lance’s loneliness at bay. Lance’s family, too, accommodated his grief, and on occasion, sat down and cried with him, mourning the loss of the child that was almost like an adopted part of the family. It took some time, but Lance eventually found himself able to get through a day without thinking about Yadira. He let himself be happy and let himself laugh and smile and keep everyone else happy so they wouldn’t cry, because he couldn’t deal with anymore sadness. The maze of grief he had to transverse to get to that point was the hardest thing Lance had to ever do in his life, but he always thought that the experience helped to prepare him for future misfortunes in his life.  
  
But nothing could have prepared him for this. No death, no grief, no misery. Nothing.  
  
“150 years,” he echoed numbly. Allura said nothing, but the sadness that festered in her eyes was an answer enough.

He sunk to the ground, and the world turned to gray around him. 150 years. _150 years._ _One hundred and fifty years._ __  
  
“No,” he whispered. He shook his head vehemently. “No, that can’t...that can’t be right. No.”  
  
“Lance-”  
  
“Nonono, you’re lying. Y-you have to be lying.”

“Lance, I would never tell a lie like this,” Allura’s voice replied, wavering as she spoke. “I would never make you feel this kind of pain for my own benefit.”

Lance shook his head once more, this time slow and uncertain. The truth of Allura’s words was bearing down on him, cracking the last of the superficial illusion he was struggling to maintain. There was a reason no one else was here to greet him, a reason that Allura had been in the Black Lion, a reason she was so distraught and all alone.  
  
This was not the reason he wanted. 

“Please tell me this is some kind of joke,” Lance whispered desperately. He wanted it to be that so badly. “A prank, a trick, anything, I don’t care. Just tell me this is all some ruse, that I’m going to find out that none of this is real. _Please_ , Allura.”  
  
“I’m sorry," was what she said and nothing more.

It was like someone was dragging a serrated knife along his heart. 

“No,” Lance sobbed. This couldn’t be happening.  “No, no, no please, I c-can’t....”  
  
His throat clogged up and all words fell away. Even then he had no idea what he would have said if he had been able to speak. He couldn’t find any words in the mess of his mind. It was screams and it was storms, without order, without direction. He was nothing in the face of it. All Lance could do was let himself drown as every horrible thought rushed to consume him.

  
They were gone. Hunk, Pidge, Keith, Shiro, Mamá, Veronica, Luis, Marco, Matt. 150 years was too long, too long to even hope there was a chance that anyone remained. It was two lifetimes of days that passed without him, two lifetimes of war and peace and life and death and birth and growth, two lifetimes of the Earth spinning on and on, two lifetimes in which his friends and family had existed and he had not.

It was two lifetimes too many.

His family, his friends; they had all moved on, lived, changed, _died_. He hadn’t been there to see any of them go through any of that. He hadn’t even been there to cry, to grieve their each loss, to say goodbye. He hadn’t been there for anything.

  
Lance wailed as his head fell into his hands, the shaking of his shoulders almost painful as he wept into his palms. His lungs felt like they had been exposed to a blizzard, rubbed raw by the frost, and with each harsh breath, it burned. And he screamed all the more. Because for as much as it hurt, it was nothing in the face of the anguish that was searing into his very soul.

It was just all too much to take in. In but a moment, he had lost his home, his family, and his friends. Time moved slow, as if it wished to draw out every moment so his pain would last on eternally. Salt stung his skin as tears fell and fell and just kept falling. He couldn’t find the will to stop them. What was the point? There was no one but Allura here to see him fall to pieces.  
  
“How do you live with this?” he breathed out, looked up with blurry eyes to Allura. He only realised then that she had wrapped one of her arms around him, and that she too was crying. “How do you live when everyone else is dead?”  
  
Allura’s head fell, and her hair swayed down to hide her eyes. “I guess I don’t. Not really. Not since I woke from the pod all those years ago. Before you di-.... _before_ , it was always more like a never ending game of misdirection. I always had some foe to distract me, always another issue to concern myself with. And if I ever had but a fleeting moment to regard my losses and my sorrow, I would push it all down and move on, because that’s what was required of me. I still think I do that, somewhat. I find an issue and I solve it. But...it’s harder now, to deal with it all, all by myself. Now that Coran’s gone-”  
  
Lance blanched. It was another stab to a wound that was already bleeding profusely. “Coran’s gone too?”

Allura’s bottom lip wobbled as she nodded.  
  
“We are not immortal, Lance, not even Alteans. All eventually die. Even I will be gone someday.”  
  
Lance keened. No, he couldn’t lose Allura too. He couldn’t. Lance wound his arms tightly around his chest, as if it would do anything. He didn’t think anything would fix this gaping hole that was forming inside him. And no matter how much he hated it, he couldn’t help but listen to the small voice in his head that wished he never woke up from the pod.  
  
He wiped furiously at his tears, trying to find some imitation of stability. It didn’t do even a whit of good, as his eyes still burned with fledgling teardrops. But he needed to be here for Allura. She had no one left to help her through this. Absolutely no one. She had to deal with....with this, for years and years. He couldn’t just let her continue to suffer in the quiet. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he forced himself to speak.  
“How long have you been here, alone?”  
  
“I haven’t been alone all this time,” Allura assured. “I stayed on your planet with the other Paladins for a very long time, for they were all my family and I loved them all so very much. But I had fair few ties with Earth after they had all passed, and so Coran and I eventually left to explore the Universe, as we never had the chance to whilst the war was being fought. Coran was nearing the end of his life at that point, however, and so I made sure he would have a companion to the very end. Coran passed almost 20 years ago, peacefully, just as all your friends did. It has just been me since then....but I do have some friends to which a speak to now, and the Lions each speak to me, so I’m not completely alone. Please don’t worry.”  
  
Lance wrapped his arms around Allura and pulled her in close, not caring in the least if he got his snot and tears on her dress. The hug was even tighter than the one he had given earlier, and all the more desperate.  
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.  
  
Allura pushed herself away from the hug, and met his eyes with her own vehement gaze. “The blame does not fall on your shoulders, Lance.”  
  
The Red Paladin looked away, and drew in a shaky breath. “I know. I just.....I’m sorry you had to be alone for so long.”  
  
“And I’m sorry you’ve had everything you’ve ever know ripped away from you. ”  
  
Lance bit back a sob. He loved that Allura was being so kind to him, but he really just needed some time and space right now. He stood up shakily, and stepped away from Allura.  
“I...I think I need a moment. I need to....”  
  
He pointed pathetically to the door, his hand shivering as he held up his index finger. Allura glanced to where his pointed, and bit her lip, as if there was more she wanted to say. But, she acquiesced, wordlessly nodding. He left silently, his footsteps the only sound as he escaped the stifling atmosphere of the Medical Wing.

He had no idea where he was going, and even if he did, he was too focused on trying to hold back his tears to really keep track on where his footsteps were taking him. The halls were so quiet, as empty as they had been when he and the others had first arrived here, that same desolate afterburn of a world that had become stagnant in its bygone sorrow, forgotten by those who lived and forgetful of what it was to be truly alive.  
  
There was no distant cry of delight from Pidge after she made some awesome technology for merely the fun of creation. There was no scent of freshly cooked alien cuisine that Hunk often made for them so they would all smile and forget about their problems for a while. There was no whistle of a sword being swung as Keith fought with him, the sword as fierce as the rush of adrenaline that flared with every retaliating shot that Lance fired back. There was none of Coran’s comforting words or stories to distract him from his homesickness, or gentle pats on the shoulder to make him feel special.  
  
And there was no Shiro. Lance let his fingers claw at the fabric of his jacket at that thought. Shiro had died thinking Lance’s blood had been on his hands, that he had been the reason that Lance had been gone. And he wasn’t here to see that wasn’t the truth. Lance was too late to tell his leader he didn’t blame him. He blamed Haggar, for she and she alone had caused this. But there was no Haggar either. 

Haggar’s death could not quell the flare of fury that intertwined with his despair. It was pure hatred he felt towards her, the same kind of hatred that had driven many good people to do bad things. But he couldn’t do anything. She was gone, and with it any chance of vengeance. Or closure. He would never get to say goodbye to anyone, and he would always have to live with that. And that’s exactly what Haggar had wanted. To have him wake to a world not worth living for, to deal with the unimaginable grief of losing everything. It was a cruelty far worse than death could be.  
  
Lance was busy wiping away the thick trails of tears when he found himself at the door of the flight deck. Routine, it seemed, had led him here. He wandered in, his mind thoughtless as his legs pulled him into the room. No one else was in the room save for him, but the faint echoes of his teammates played in Lance’s ears. To him, only days ago, they had actually been there, alive, well, and so, so happy. He had been too.  
  
On instinct, he headed to his seat, and at his approach, it rose from floor. Years of neglect had done it no favours. He brushed his finger along the back of the chair, catching the dust of disuse on his skin. The final, horrible proof that Voltron was no more. 

He fell into the chair, and pulled his legs up close to his body. He stared around the room with a look as vacant as his surroundings. It didn't feel the same anymore. It was just a worthless shell that housed nothing; like a treasure chest without gold. All Lance had left to accompany him were the buzzing questions in his mind. Did they allow themselves to move on and forget him? Had they been happy? Was life everything they hoped it was?   
  
Memories of days that were simultaneously new and ancient played in his mind  as he tried to answer those unanswerable questions, and he wept as they each passed through his mind. Memories was all he had left of his friends now. All he had left of his family too. 

Lance peered across the room towards the windows, out to stars, those beautiful delusions. He could only guess which of them was but a dead light in the distant reaches of space. Earth would be out there amongst them, enjoying the same spectres as him. His eyes drifted down to Coran's control panel. Maybe looking at Earth would help him deal with this. If anything, it would remind him that there was still a place for him to return to.

He rose from his chair and wandered sluggishly down the steps towards the panel. He placed his hand down on the screen, with only the word ‘Earth’ present in his mind. Blue lights exploded outwards like beautiful debris being thrown through the air, in an act that appeared chaotic, but in truth was defined by laws that people could barely understand. Triangles and comets and planets and stars all found their place in the room, a projection of their distant existence. But Lance had only eyes for the planet. The one that he used to call home.

It wasn't really home now though, was it? His Mamá had always said home wasn’t about where you lived, but about the people you lived with. So, what did that leave Earth? It was only a place now, devoid of anyone he cared for.  The Earth and its beauty could not make up for the absence of his friends and family. It was just a house for his memories. 

“I thought you would come here.”  
  
Lance flinched at the sudden voice, and turned away from the blue projection of Earth to find Allura standing amongst the stars, a sympathetic look on her face. His cheeks went red with shame, feeling all too much like he’d been caught out doing something wrong. Allura didn’t even have a planet to return too, and here he was denouncing his. Lance lowered his eyes. He didn’t say a word as she approached, not feeling there was anything he could say that would help.

“Lance,” Allura began, raising her hand to grip it around his tenderly, “can I show you something?”

Lance frowned in uncertainty and, admittedly, fear of whatever she wanted to show him. He didn't want another domino to fall and send him sinking even further down into his sorrow. He peered back at the vague shape of the world he had lived on for most of his life, surrounded by the rings of Solar System and the particles of blue lights that represented the lonely asteroids and comets that wandered through it. Looking at the Earth wasn’t exactly bringing the joy he had hoped for. Then again, he didn’t think anything could lift his mood right now. He just wanted to fall apart and be swept away. But, Allura was trying her damn hardest to make this easier for him, and to reject her offer would help no one.  
  
He produced a nod. She smile softly at that, tugging at his hand as she did. He let himself be lead out of the flight deck and through the halls. He followed behind Allura, keeping his mind aware of his surroundings, on every turn, on every hall. When he knew for certain she was not leading him to the detainment room, he let himself relax, if only just a little.

The two ended up in a room Lance did not recognise. A path reminiscent of a catwalk lead to a circular section of the room, in which five cylinders were situated, glowing like lava lamps. Save for that, the rest of the room was empty, shrouded in shadows. Lance furrowed his brows.  
  
“Where are we?”  
  
“This is the holodeck. It is where I used to visit my father.”  
  
“Oh,” Lance said lamely. 

“It is also,” Allura added, “where I visit that which I’ve long since lost.”  
  
The room erupted into a world of colour before Lance could even ask Allura what she meant. Lance blinked against the light, and when he opened his eyes, he had to blink once again, this time in surprise. Where they had once been metal, there was now grass, susurrating in the nonexistent wind, the green blades swaying to and fro in the same lazy fashion as the clouds high above. Flowers Lance didn’t recognised speckled the lush hills with their pink shades, while dandelion seeds flew through the air like wayward parachutes. Mountains rose up proudly in the distant, each peaked with snow that glittered in the sunlight. And amongst it all, there was the sound of a far off ocean that Lance could not see, the roar of its waves the only sign of its existence.

Even in his fathomless sadness, Lance found it beautiful. More beautiful than any planet he had seen of late, even that of the Jikhorians. It was almost like someone had amalgamated a collection of wondrous landscapes from Earth and pieced it all together to make one place that had almost everything.  
  
Allura’s hand fell on his shoulder, and it took all of Lance’s willpower not to startle at the touch. She was smiling warmly at him when he turned to her, her fingers gentle as she rubbed his shoulder in a soothing manner. He looked between his surroundings and the Princess, too shocked to really process what he was seeing.

“Allura, what...what is this?”  
  
“This landscape,” Allura said, sweeping her hand out as she spoke, “is an imprint of memories forged together. It is one of the mementos our friends left for me before they died, to remind me of them. I have over the years come here very often. They help me through my darker days. I think they'll help you too.” 

Lance peered at Allura in confusion. They? What did that mean? He and Allura were alone amongst the field’s flowers, and this world, for all it’s beauty, held nothing but memories of the past. It would be just him and her from now on.  
  
It seemed the universe enjoyed playing with him, however, for a voice - not Allura’s, but instead the ghost of someone familiar - spoke, so soft and so glad.  
  
“Hey Lance. It’s been awhile.”


End file.
